Do or Die
by BlueEyesXOX
Summary: Layla Williams knew nothing of Judgement Day, or the deal with Skynet. But when her best friend is murdered by a cop, she finds herself on the run with complete strangers. And within a few hours she realises that she's more involved in the coming-war than she ever knew. Terminator 2: Judgement Day Story. John/OC.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note:

Hello readers, just a few things to help out with the story ~ Link to what OC looks like is on profile, including the dog in the story. I own nothing except my OC - Layla, her dog Chips, and any other OC's that may appear during this story. Story is a John/OC, though there may not be much of it until later in the story. This Fic starts around the same time as the T2 movie, and will carry on through-out, maybe afterwards if all goes well. Obviously I've had to tweak the age system a little to fit with the story, so the year in the story is 1995, but John was born in 1981 instead of 1985. Also, the main characters in the movie won't appear until the second chapter at the earliest.

Other than that, I hope you enjoy the story. Review, Favourite, or Follow if you can.

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~ Los Angeles ~  
~ April 25th, 1995 ~

"Layla!"

I flinched at the sound of my mothers voice, and easily rolled off the bed and onto my feet. As I headed towards the top of the stairs, I could faintly hear the sound of Chips' paws against the wooden floor. The Yorkshire terrier had to only be about 15 inches tall, making him even more cuter than he should've been.

Looking down the steps, I immediately spotted 3 suitcases sitting at the bottom, while my mom stood in front of them.

"You going somewhere?" I asked, slowly descending the stairs.

Mom glanced down at the suitcases for a moment, before a look of guilt crossed her face. "Yeah. Just for a few days I promise."

_As usual_. I thought, sighing disappointedly. "It's fine, I know where everything is." I reassured, smiling for added effect.

"You're sure?" She asked, her eyes narrowed sceptically.

"Mom, I'll be _fine. _Don't worry, it's no different than before." I shrugged, waving a hand.

"Only if you're sure, if not I can just call and cancel..."

"Mom!" I exclaimed, cutting her off. "It's fine, I swear. Just go."

She nodded, biting her lip as she turned back to suitcases. "Give me a hand?"

I nodded and carried on down the stairs, taking hold of the largest suitcase before dragging it out into the front yard. It was normal for my mom to go on trips like this, she worked for some kind of company that dealt with FBI stuff...at least, that's what she told me. She'd explained it to me once when I was young, but I'd never been interested. All I knew was that her work equalled with me being home alone. Sometimes it was for a few days, others she'd be gone for weeks. But, I'd never been that bothered about it. Heck, no normal teen in this day and age would be disappointed about having a house to themselves. The only reason I was disappointed this time, was because we were supposed to spend time together this weekend. Obviously, plans had changed.

After loading the suitcases into her car, mom turned to face me. The guilt on her face was clear as day. "You know I wish I didn't have to go."

"I know mom, it's okay. We can spend some time together when you get back, it's all good." I reassured, shaking my head.

"Okay. I promise I'll only be gone for a few days. I love you sweetie." She pulled me into a tight embrace and I sighed, hugging her back just as tight.

"I love you too." I muttered as we both pulled back.

She climbed into the car and plugged in the seatbelt, rolling down the window once she was done. "Remember..."

Rolling my eyes, I once again cut her off. "Look through the peephole before answering the door, don't invite anyone in, and call 911 if I hear the slightest noise," I counted the list off on the fingers of my right hand. "I _know _what to do mom. Now stop worrying and go dissect something."

She chuckled and shook her head, turning on the car radio. "I'll be back in a few days Layla."

I nodded and back up as the car pulled out, watching as she disappeared down the street and around the corner. Once she was out of sight, I looked down towards my right foot, smiling slightly at the sight of Chips staring up at me. "Just you and me now buddy." I sighed. The small dog whined as though sensing my sadness, causing my smile to widen. "C'mon." I jogged back into the house, Chips quickly trailing behind.

~...~...~...~...~...~

"So your mom's gone and you're upset?!" My best friend, Emily, exclaimed.

Every girl has a loud best friend; Emily was mine. She was very opinionated for a 14 year old, and wasn't scared to let people know it. And while she was my best friend, we could not be more different.

While my clothes of the day consisted of a sky-blue sundress, white plimsolls, and some light blue jewellery. Emily wore a light-grey crop-top, dark-blue jean shorts, black converse, black leather bracelets, and guitar earrings. We were so different that people found it hard to believe that we were even friends, but if they stuck around long enough, they'd realise we were more like two halves of one person. Emily's words, not mine. I was the shy, normal side, and she was the side that came out if you drank too much red bull.

"Yeah. You have no idea how creepy it is in that big house by myself." I shrugged, crossing my arms.

Emily scoffed loudly, "You, my friend, need to grow a pair."

The sound of a revving engine met my ears and I quickly gripped Emily's wrist, yanking her back before the red dirt-bike could knock her down. She gasped in surprise, but immediately glared at the still-travelling bike. "Well screw you asshole!" She screamed. One of the two teens on the bike looked back at us, smirking before giving Em' the finger. "I _hate _guys like that!" She exclaimed, groaning in annoyance.

"Tell me about it." I muttered, shaking my head as they turned the corner.

"Anyway, how about I come over tonight? We'll pig out on every sugary thing you have in the house, and _maybe _watch a scary movie, if you're up for it." She offered.

"Nah, thanks for the offer but I'd rather have tonight off. Since we have school tomorrow, but it is a Friday tomorrow so maybe you can stay tomorrow night." I suggested. Emily pouted.

"Fine. Can I at least come over now, watch some TV, maybe raid your fridge?" She pleaded.

I smiled and rolled my eyes. "Sure, just make sure to leave something for me."

"Can't make any promises." She shrugged, crouching down to pet Chips.

~...~...~...~...~...~

At some point during my friendship with Emily, she'd created a small routine for the days she came over. She would raid my kitchen, re-decorate my living room, find a scary movie to watch, and she always managed to do it in at least 10 minutes. Her speed really surprised me some days.

I re-entered my pillow-filled living room, holding a bowl full of chips, while Chips quickly followed. Emily had already situated herself on the pillow-pile on my floor, lying stomach down with her legs in the air. Chips immediately ran towards her, choosing to lie down on her back. I however chose to sit on the couch, despite how comfy the floor seemed at that moment.

"That's just wrong." Emily muttered to herself, shaking her head.

I popped a chip into my mouth, instantly recognizing the movie. "Evil dead. Really?"

"Who the heck comes up with this stuff?!" She exclaimed, glancing back at me as she gestured to the TV.

Rolling my eyes at her actions, I turned my head towards the window, curiosity bubbling as a cop car slowly drove down the road. It was unusual for cop cars to come around this area, with it being so quiet and crime-free. So when they did come by, they had my complete attention, especially when they stopped outside the house, like this one seemed to be doing.

"Oh jesus. Em', come check this out." I said nervously, my eyes still locked on the cop car.

The couch dipped as Emily jumped next to me. "Shit Layla, what did you do without telling me?" She sounded way too impressed for my liking.

"This isn't funny Em'! Mom is going to flip!"

"Layla if you hadn't noticed yet, and I really hope you did, your _mom _is out of _town. _She doesn't even have to know about it." She shrugged.

I nodded and wrung my hands nervously, watching as the cop made his way towards the front door. The doorbell rang, causing me to flinch at the sound, even though I saw it coming. "Okay I'm totally freaking out right now. What do I do?" I squeaked, turning to face Emily. "You've been in this situation lots of times. Help me!"

"Hey, hey, hey," She started, waving her hands dramatically. "I haven't done this 'lots of times'. I've done it like once. And don't freak out, I'll pretend I'm you and see what he wants. It's no biggie. You hide in the kitchen and listen in. Don't worry about this okay? I'll take care of it." She placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, calming my nerves a little.

"Thank you." I sighed, shaking my head as I stood from the couch.

The doorbell rang again and Emily groaned. "Just a minute!" She turned back to face me, placing both hands on my shoulders. "Calm down, take deep breaths, and go hide in the kitchen."

I nodded and quickly bent down to pick up Chips. "You're amazing, I owe you big time."

She nodded as we both approached the door. "I know, I know. Just go hide."

She placed a hand on the doorknob and I ran into the kitchen, crossing my legs as I sat down behind the wooden door, while Chips took up a spot on my lap.

The sound of the door being opened reached my ears and I held my breath, scratching behind Chips' ear to calm my nerves. "Hi officer." Emily greeted. Her complete calmness in this situation worried me slightly, but then I remembered, she'd been in this situation may times before.

"Is this the Williams House?" A male voice asked; Obviously it was the cop.

"It is. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Are you Layla Williams?"

I bit down on my lip worriedly, trying to keep my hands from shaking.

"I am. What is it I'm supposed to have done?" Emily asked.

Everything was silent for a minute or two, the only thing reaching my ears was the sound of Chips' collar as he scratched. But then suddenly, a loud thudding sound echoed through the house, causing me to jump. Chips immediately stopped his scratching, his small ears perking up at the odd sound. The sound of the front door shutting was heard and I sighed in relief, rising to my feet while Chips ran out into the hall.

"Hey Em' is everything," I froze in the kitchen doorway, my eyes widening in disbelief and horror.

Emily was lying down near the front door, but she was unmoving. A puddle of blood surrounded her head, the dark colour staining the light wooden flooring. Chips was already pawing at her hand, whining as he frantically nudged her hand.

"Emily!" I shouted, running towards her and dropping to my knees.

As I kneeled next to her, I realised the cause of the bleeding; A large stab wound in her forehead. Her eyes were wide, staring up at the ceiling, while her arms stretched out across the floor. Chips continued to nudged her hand and I sobbed, knowing that this fate was meant for me, not Emily. And I searched and searched my brain as tears ran down my cheeks, trying to find a reason why the cop would kill me, or Emily I guess. But I couldn't find a reason. Nothing.

The phone ringing pulled me out of my thoughts and I jumped up, running as fast as I could into the living room and snatching the phone off it's holder. "Hello?"

"Is this Layla Williams?" The voice was deep and emotionless, making me even more nervous than I was.

"Why?"

"You are in danger. What is your location?"

"Listen, I don't know who your are or what the heck is going on, but stay away from me. I'm calling the cops, they'll be here soon so don't even try to find me." With that I slammed the phone back down, falling onto the pillows as I took deep breaths.

Obviously, I couldn't call the cops. With what just happened, they weren't in the helping mood today, so the 911 plan flew right out the window. And I couldn't stay here, after that phone-call, who knew how many more people were after me. There was only one option; Run.

~...~...~...~...~...~

After stuffing food and money into my trusty backpack, I knew I was good-to-go.

As I passed by the living room again, I realised I'd have to leave a note or something. If my mom did come back, she'd find a dead Emily, and me missing. And even if she wasn't my real mom, she didn't deserve it. I quickly tracked down a pen an' paper, and wrote a short note. Explaining that I was alive, well, and definitely not coming back home. That cop guy would realise soon enough that he'd killed Emily Winston, not Layla Williams, and he would come back here first.

"Chips" I called. The small dog ran towards me and I sighed, clasping the lead onto his collar. "Time to go boy."

I took a deep breath and looked around, realising that it would be the last time I'd see this place. And with that, I tugged Chips out of the house, closing the door before speed-walking down the street, and away from my home.

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Author's Note:

Hi guys, hope it's okay, like I said the main characters from the movie will be in the next chapter. Hope I've done okay so far, review if you can.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note:

Thank you reviewers, for, well, reviewing obviously. The main characters from the movie will appear in this chapter...hopefully. Thank you for reading and review the chapter if you can.

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My mom once told me that good grades could get you anywhere...boy was she wrong. They'd get you a good _job _anywhere, but they wouldn't literally get you anywhere. My being a complete good-girl, a stay-at-home girl, wasn't doing much for my being on the run. I had absolutely no idea where I was, or where I was going. At least fugitives had somewhere to go, and ways to get there. Me? I had nothing except Chips, who was tucked safely in my backpack, that I carried in my arms. Sure I had money, but where was I going to go with it? Heck knows. I should've planned ahead, figured out where I was going to go. But no, I had to go straight into it without thinking, and that had never gone well for me before.

As I strolled down the slightly-busy street, making sure to glance around cautiously, I realised that it would be dark soon. I didn't have a watch on me, so there was no way to tell what the time was. All I could think about was my foster-mom, and how confused she'd be when she got home. She'd find Emily dead on the floor, Chips and I gone, and would have absolutely no idea why any of it had happened. And with me having a very large guilty-conscience, I knew it would most likely stay on my mind as long as I was gone.

The rumbling sound of a motorcycle pulled me out of my thoughts, and I glanced back nervously. The bike came into view and I watched as it drove down the street, scanning the occupants as they did. There was a large man driving. He wore all black, leather mostly, and wore some dark shades on his face. And his emotionless expression was a little disturbing, but I shook it off. Sat behind him was a boy, most likely my age. He had the usual 'bad-boy' appearance going on, and he clung to the large mans back as they drove.

They passed by and I lowered my head slightly, though I kept my eyes locked onto their retreating forms. The boy glanced back at me, squinting slightly before tapping the larger man on his shoulder. The bike slowed and turned, making it's way back towards me. And as soon as it did, my nerves seemed to kick into over-drive. My palms started to sweat, my stomach started to tingle, and I felt slightly sick. But I stayed put, knowing that if I did run, they'd catch me in a few short seconds. There were no short-cut alleys local, not from what I could see, so I'd only have two options; Run back, or run forward. Either option would only wind up in me being caught. So I stood still, forcing myself to act as normal as I could.

The bike eventually stopped a few inches to my left, and both occupants stared at me. The boy with a curious expression, while the mans face remained emotionless.

"Layla Williams?" The large man asked.

As soon as the words escaped his mouth, I recognized his voice; He was the man on the phone earlier.

"No" I replied, inwardly cursing as my voice came out shaky and hesitant.

"What's your name?" The boy behind him asked.

"Emily. Emily Winston."

"You're lying." The man stated.

I narrowed my eyes, "How the heck would you know?"

"Because Emily Winston is lying dead in your house."

My eyes widened slightly and I glanced around the street, praying for a way out, a way to run. Unfortunately, I couldn't see one.

"Look, we're not gonna hurt you." The boy reassured. I remained sceptical.

"How do I know that?"

"We do not have time for this." The man said impatiently.

"Ignore him. My name's John, and this is," He paused as he turned to the man, staring for a moment before chuckling nervously, "A really long story. In a Nutshell though; We both have the same guy after us, and he's our bodyguard."

My eyebrows raised at the revelation. "Uh...okay. Normally I'd say you're crazy, but my best friend was killed by a cop a few hours ago, so I'm gonna be a little open-minded right now."

He sighed in relief and nodded, patting the large mans back. "Great! Now just get on the bike and we'll get somewhere safe."

"Woah, woah. I said I'd be open-minded. Not that I'd get on a bike with complete strangers, especially with a psycho-cop after me. Just explain why he's coming for me, and we'll go out separate ways." I objected, shaking my head as I backed up slightly.

"Look, you can either get on by yourself, or we'll make you get on." He pulled back the large man's coat, revealing a very large gun.

"This is a bad day for me." I muttered, shuffling the backpack around in my arms.

"Wait till you hear everything. Now c'mon, we don't got all day." John sang.

I rolled my eyes and nodded, chewing my lip nervously as the man moved his left arm, signalling for me to climb in front. I shoved my arms through the backpack straps, making sure it was firmly held against my chest, before climbing onto the bike.

His arm moved back and I sighed as the bike started up. Of all the ways I'd imagined today going, this didn't even come into my top fifty.

~...~...~...~...~...~

I had no idea how long we'd been driving around for, but it was dark as we pulled into a nearby station, only stopping because John wanted to call his parents.

The bike was shut off and John hopped off the back, speeding into the payphone. The man, who's name I had yet to learn, followed. Leaving me to remain seated, with Chips still settled into my backpack.

"Look, Todd and Janelle are dicks, but I gotta warn 'em" John shrugged.

I climbed off the bike slowly, making my way towards the two before leaning against the outside of the payphone booth. "They your parents or something?" I asked curiously.

He glanced up at me as he took the phone off the holder, shaking his head. "Nah, foster parents." He clarified. I nodded in understanding and he suddenly groaned. "You guys got any quarters?"

The man slammed his fist into the lower part of the phone, causing the contents to spill out onto the floor. John shrugged and nodded before shoving some quarters into the machine, dialling his foster-parents' number.

"Didn't that hurt?" I asked the man, looking up at him with narrowed eyes.

"I do not feel pain." He replied in monotone.

"How can you not feel pain?"

"I do not have a nervous system, so I cannot feel it."

I was about to throw another question at the strange guy when John's foster-mom finally answered the phone, and with her voice coming through as loud as it was, I was able to hear everything.

"Hello?"

"Janelle it's me." John replied frantically. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah everything's okay. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"John it's late," His foster-mom sighed. "Honey I was beginning to worry about you. If you hurry home we can have dinner together. I'm making beef stew."

He narrowed his eyes and covered the lower part of the phone with his hand, turning to look up at the man. "Something's wrong, she's never this nice."

"John, where are you?"

He put the phone back to his ear as a man's voice came through the phone. "What is that dog barking at? Hey! Shut up you worthless piece of shit!"

"The dog's really barking." John said, averting his eyes in thought.

"John, honey it's late, please don't make me worry." His mom's voice pleaded, sounding quite worried.

"Could he already be there?" John asked the man.

He took the phone from John and put it to his own ear. "John is everything okay?" The foster-mom asked.

"Everything's fine, I'm right here." The man reassured.

Now I would've been fine, had his voice not come out exactly like John's. It was freaky as hell, and I was tired of not being in-the-know. "What the heck!" I silently exclaimed, shooting both males a questioning look.

"Are you sure you're alright?" John's mom asked.

The man put his hand over the phone, glancing down at John, while they both completely ignored my freaked-out expression. "What's the dogs name?"

"Max" John replied as the man held the phone back to his ear.

"Will someone _please _tell me what the frick is going on?!" I exclaimed. Apparently a little too loud for their liking, as John's hands covered my mouth a short second afterwards.

"Hey Janelle, what's wrong with Wolfie? I can hear him barking, is he okay?" The man asked, once again in John's voice.

"Wolfie's fine honey, Wolfie's just fine. Where are you?" His foster-mom asked, her voice a little firmer than before.

The man immediately slammed down the phone, turning to look at John. "Your foster-parents are dead."

My eyes widened as he headed back to the bike, while John looked slightly upset, but not in the least bit freaked out. Which just made me even more annoyed. I shoved against his chest, sending him back into the opposite phone-booth wall.

"What's going on?!" I repeated.

"It's a long story." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he excited the booth.

"Yeah? Well I got time. Not as much as I'd like, apparently, but I got time."

John clicked his tongue and looked back at the man, shrugging slightly. "You wanna tell her T?"

And so he did.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time he'd finished explaining just what was going on, I was left speechless. It felt like one of those disturbingly realistic dreams, but I knew that it was all real. Although I was feeling the urge to pinch myself, just to double-check.

"Layla, you okay?" John asked.

I paused for a moment, holding the backpack tighter to my chest. "I don't know, I mean should I be? A few hours ago my best friend was stabbed by a cop. Now I'm on the run with two complete strangers who are telling me that there's supposed to be some kind of war with computers in a few years and that you're gonna be the leader," I gestured to John with my right hand. "So I think I'm in the middle of a break-down." I finished, taking a deep breath afterwards.

Both men stared at me for a minute, probably waiting to see if I would faint. And to be honest, I was too. "Well you're taking it better than I thought." John shrugged.

"I think I feel sick." I muttered, lowering myself to sit on the cold floor.

"C'mon, don't puke." He pleaded.

"I just found out that time-travel existed! That this guy," I motioned to the large man, who I'd recently found out didn't have a name. "Is a robot who was sent back in time by _you _to protect both of us. And that there's another robot that was sent back by human-killing computers to kill both of us. You're lucky I'm not screaming my head off and high-tailing it in the other direction right now!"

He shrugged and nodded before turning to face the robot-guy, a curious expression on his face. "Speaking of which, I'm guessing this guy can copy voices like you can."

"Correct. It can also take the form of living organisms." The Guy replied.

"I need a minute here. You're telling me that this thing can imitate anything it touches?!"

I looked up from my spot on the floor, listening intently to their conversation. "Anything it samples by physical contact."

"Get real, like it could disguise itself as a pack of cigarettes?"

"No, only an object of equal size."

"Why doesn't it become a bomb or something to get us?" John shrugged, nodding towards me.

"It can't form complex machines, guns and explosives have chemicals, moving parts, it doesn't work that way. But it can form solid metal shapes."

"Like what?" I piped up, curiosity taking over.

"Knives and stabbing weapons."

I shook my head in disbelief and got back on my feet, making sure to pick up my backpack as I did. "This is...I have no idea how to explain this. How are you not freaking out right now?" I turned to face John, who still didn't look that bothered by the situation.

"Because I already knew it was gonna happen." He shrugged.

I shook my head and groaned, pulling myself up to sit on the hood of a nearby car. "I'm gonna need therapy after this."

"Now you know I felt for about two years." John jumped up onto the hood next to me.

"How did you know about all this?"

"My mom. Before I was born the machines sent a Terminator back to kill her, to stop me being born I guess. But I sent a guy called Kyle back to keep her safe. Turns out he was my dad. Anyway, he died and so did the Terminator. My mom survived. She moved away, had me, then taught me everything. Told me about Judgement day, the war with Skynet, everything. See, we spent a lot of time in Nicaragua and places like that. For a while, she was with this crazy ex-Green Beret guy, running guns. Then there were some other guys. She'd shack up with anybody she could learn from so she could teach me how to be this 'great military leader'. Then she gets busted and it's like, 'Sorry kid, your mom's a psycho. Didn't you know?' It's like everything I've been brought up to believe is all made of bullshit. I hated her for that." He shook his head and leaned forward.

"Where is she now?" I asked, slightly hesitant.

"Pescadero, mental home. I got thrown into the Foster System and ended up living with Todd and Janelle a few months after." He explained.

"Christ. The only thing I ever had to worry about was whether or not I'd get a good grade on my test."

He shrugged, staring forward at the building in front of us. "Yeah, well, we can't all have rich parents."

I winced at the sentence, chewing my bottom lip in thought. Sure I had the nice house, the amazing parent, good grades, good friends; The typical rich-girl life. But that didn't mean I wanted it voiced out all the time, if anything I hated it. "I guess." I muttered.

"Speaking of, don't you wanna call 'em?" He asked, gesturing to the payphone.

"Nah," I sighed, shaking my head. "My mom's out of town working, won't be back for a few days."

"That's good I s'pose. What about your dad?"

"You know your mom was right about this whole thing." I stated, trying desperately to move the subject away from my family.

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he thankfully forgot about it. "You're right. I mean, no one believed her, not even me." He shook his head and jumped down from the hood, looking up at the Terminator. "We have to bust her out."

"Negative. The T-1000's highest probability for success now will be to copy Sarah Connor and to wait for you to make contact with her."

"Great, what happens to her?"

"Typically, the subject being copied is terminated."

"Shit! Why didn't you tell me? We gotta go right now!" John turned to make his way towards the bike, but the Terminator gripped his shirt, preventing him from moving.

"Negative. She's not a mission priority."

"Well fuck you! She's a priority to me!" John shouted, slamming his fist into the Terminator's chest.

The terminator kept a firm grip on John's shirt, obviously sticking to his choice to not save John's mom. It actually made me feel pretty awkward. Especially when John started calling for help.

"This will not help our mission."

"Help! Get this Psycho off me! Let me go!" The terminator released John's shirt, resulting in John landing on his back on the floor.

He glared up at the terminator and leaned up on his elbows. "Why the hell did you do that?!"

"Because you told me to."

John slowly got back up to his feet, his eyes narrowed with curiosity. "What?"

"So, you have to do what he says?" I asked, leaning forward on the car hood.

"That is one of my mission parameters." He replied, glancing back at me.

John smirked slightly. "Prove it. Stand on one foot." The terminator obediently raised his right leg. "Yes! Cool, my own terminator."

"Try not to look so happy." I said, leaning back on my forearms.

"C'mon, even _you'd _be excited."

I raised my eyebrows in thought, shrugging slightly. "Maybe."

Approaching footsteps caught my attention and I shot up into a sitting position, turning and sighing in relief to see two normal guys. "You okay kids?" The blonde man asked.

"Take a hike bozo." John shrugged.

"See man? Let's get outta here!" The dark-skinned man exclaimed, tugging at his friends' arm.

"Fuck you, you little dipshit!" The blonde exclaimed angrily.

"Dipshit?" John smirked, turning till he was stood next to the terminator. "Put your leg down." He whispered. The terminator lowered his right leg. "Did you just call moi a dipshit?" He asked, the smirk widening.

"Yeah." The blonde shrugged, glancing back at his friend.

John looked up at the terminator. "Grab this guy, I can't believe him." He sighed, gesturing to the blonde man.

The terminator stepped forward and grabbed the guy by his hair, raising his arm until the mans legs dangled in the air. His friend attempted to help, but it only ended with his wrist being broken. The terminator dropped the blonde man to the floor and turned on the other, slamming him into the car next to me before pulling out his gun.

My eyes widened, and thankfully, John finally stepped up, shoving the Terminators arm away just as the gun went off. "No! Put the gun down now!" The terminator lowered his gun and John turned to the two men. "Get out of here!"

They both ran as fast as they could towards their vehicles and I sighed in relief, turning back to John and the Terminator. "Jesus Christ." I muttered.

"You were really gonna kill that guy?!" John exclaimed.

"Of course. I am a terminator."

"Listen to me, you're not a terminator any more, you got that? You just can't go around killing people!"

"Why?"

I shook my head in disbelief. It was like explaining sex to a little kid. Which I'd, unfortunately, had to do once.

"Because you can't!"

"Why?"

"Because you just can't, okay? Trust me on this." John pleaded.

"Think of it this way," I started, jumping down from the hood before looking up at the terminator. "You kill someone, the cops come after you. Which will make your _mission _that much harder to do. It jeopardises your mission."

The blank look on his face made it hard to figure out if he understood or not, but I really hoped he did.

"Look," John sighed, shaking his head again. "I'm going to get my mom. And I _order _you to help me."

The terminator remained silent and John started towards the bike again. I turned and picked up my backpack, following him while the terminator trailed behind. "What makes you so sure you'll be able to bust her out?"

John shrugged as he climbed onto the bike. "Worth a shot."

"Uh, no it's not. Not to me."

"Layla, she's my _mom,_" He stressed. "I mean, wouldn't you do the same thing?"

I paused in thought, staring at him as the Terminator straddled the bike. "Yes."

He sighed in relief and I walked forward, hopping onto the bike in front of the terminator. The bike started up and I chewed my lip nervously, hoping that his mom would be alive when we got there.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note:

Just wanted to say a quick thank-you to 'Kenn. Faith .Dawn' for reviewing every chapter so far, it means a lot.

* * *

After shooting a guard in the knees and illegally entering the Hospital parking lot - all the terminators doing - the bike finally stopped.

While John and the terminator climbed off the bike, I stayed.

"What're you doing?" John questioned, his eyes narrowed.

"I'm not dragging my backpack around and I can't leave Chips." I shrugged, crossing my arms.

"Who the heck's Chips?!"

I completely opened my backpack and Chips' small head popped out of the backpack.

"Has he been in there the whole time?!"

I rolled my eyes. "Just go, get your mom."

He nodded and ran towards the elevator door, but the Terminator gripped the back of his shirt, stopping him from going any further. "We can't leave you alone."

"I'll be _fine. _If anything the thing after me is probably after his mom right now. Just _go._" I stressed, shaking my head.

To both mine and John's surprise, and confusion, the Terminator instantly entered the open elevator, waiting patiently for John.

"What the hell?" John asked, glancing back at me.

I shrugged in response. "I don't know. Look get lost, I'll be right here when you guys come back."

He nodded and ran into the elevator, pushing down on one of the buttons, causing the doors to slide shut.

~...~...~...~...~...~

Being alone in a deserted parking lot really gives you time to think. And while I sat on the bike, rubbing Chips' head, I thought over everything that had gone on so far.

The cop that shot my best friend was a metal-robot from the future, sent to kill both me and another 14 year old. The biker-guy we were riding around with was also a robot, sent back in time by John himself to keep us both safe. In 1997 there would be a war between machines and humans, and most of us would be wiped out. Yet as these thought's ran through my head, there was something I realised I didn't know. The terminator was protecting John because he was the so-called future leader of the resistance, which explained completely why future-John would send a robot to protect his younger self. But if that was true, then why did his future-self re-programme the terminator to keep me safe as well?.

Sure, I was good in school; Always got straight A's, was nice to everyone, had a rich parent. But I was no scientist. The only reason I passed my tests was because I read and read until the test came. Then as soon as it was all over, relief would fill me and the information would just float out of my mind. So that one little question remained in my mind; Why was the Terminator programmed to save me too?.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of loud gunshots, and the elevator doors re-opening.

A woman ran out of the elevator holding a gun, while John ran close behind. The terminator was still in the elevator, his gun aimed towards the elevator ceiling.

"What the heck happened in there?!" I exclaimed, jumping down from the bike with Chips in my arms.

A cop car drove towards us and the woman aimed her gun towards the window, causing the car to stop. "Get out of the car!" She pulled the trigger, deliberately missing the cops head. "Now!"

The man exited the car with his hands up and the Terminator moved towards him, grabbing him by the shirt and throwing him against the wall, effectively knocking him out. The woman hopped into the driver's seat while John climbed into the back.

As I pulled open the door on the other side of the car, the sight of the elevator doors opening caught my eye. I turned my head, my eyes widening as the cop that murdered Emily exited.

"Layla, get in the fucking car!"

John's voice drew my attention back to the situation and I jumped, climbing in with Chips before slamming the door closed.

As soon as my door slammed shut we reversed towards the parking lot exit, with the other robot running after us. The woman leaned out of the passenger window, repeatedly shooting at the robot. Though it didn't do much good. She soon ran out of bullets and retreated back into the car, turning to face John.

"I'm out."

He immediately dug through his backpack for more bullets while the Terminator started to shoot at the robot. And with his gun being more powerful, it actually slowed down the robot - but not by much.

"Here." John handed the woman the bullets and she re-loaded the gun, leaning back out of the window.

I curled up against the door of the car, hugging Chips' shaking body to my own. These guys had been in situations like this before. John was raised like this, and I took the time to realise that this woman was his mom. And the Terminator, he was a robot, he only had a mission and would stick to it. But me? I'd never been in a situation like this, my neighbourhood was far from dangerous, and I suppose the main reason was because of my gruesome background. But I still had no idea what to do, or how to react. Which is why I remained silent, hiding my face in Chips' fur while stroking his small head.

The car suddenly swerved to the left and I bit my lip out of nervousness, choosing to keep my eyes on the seat instead of out the window.

"Is he gone yet?" I asked, stupidly choosing to peek at my surroundings.

"Not yet." John sighed, staring through the back window.

I looked back and my eyes widened as the Cop-robots hands formed into metal hooks. He lunged towards the car and successfully planted his hooks into the boot before climbing towards us.

"Uh, John," I started, though my sentence was cut off as the Cop used one hook to smash the back window in. Causing the glass to spill over the seats - and me and John.

He jumped down into the gap between the front and back seats, while his mom got a good grip on the back of his jacket, keeping him there. While the glass shards cut the bare parts of my skin, I did the first thing that came to mind; Jump back. And the move resulted in both Chips and I landing in the gap between the seats. Slight pain ran through my knees as I 'thudded' to the floor, and I hunched over, covering my head with my arms while Chips curled up beneath my chest, using me as his shield I suppose.

Gunshots echoed again and I looked up towards the window, sighing in relief as I realised the cop was no longer there.

John sat back down on the seat while staring through the smashed window. He leaned out quickly before rushing back in, looking down towards me as he did. "It's okay, you can come back up."

I clenched my eyes shut for a few seconds and took a deep breath before returning to my seat, stroking Chips' head as he happily jumped onto my lap and curled into a ball.

"Thank god." I sighed, resting my head against the back of the seat.

"He's not back there." John stated, turning back to face his mom and the Terminator.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

He nodded and leaned forward, turning to the terminator. "Can you even see anything?"

"I see everything." He replied, his eyes locked on the road ahead.

John's mom stared at the terminator before shaking her head, turning back to face John. She held out her arms and he leaned in, instantly wrapping his arms around her. Though his face seemed to fall as she patted his back, searching for wounds.

"I'm okay!" He exclaimed, the irritation clear in his voice.

"It was stupid of you to go there. My god, you have to be smarter than that, you almost got yourself killed. You cannot risk yourself, not even for me. Do you understand? You're too important. Do you understand?" She stressed before turning in her seat to face the front.

"But I had to get you out of there. I'm sorry." He said. The car was dark, but the tears in his eyes were evident.

"I was fine, I didn't need your help." She snapped.

The terminator glanced back at John, making me a little nervous that he didn't have his eyes on the dark road. "What's wrong with your eyes?"

John leaned back in his seat, shaking his head as a few tears ran down his cheeks. "Nothing."

Satisfied with the answer, the terminator turned back to the road.

"Worth a shot huh?" I whispered, low enough so that only John heard.

His eyes narrowed at me but he said nothing, choosing to stare out the broken window.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note:

Hey guys, sorry the last chapter was so short, I was really slacking, hopefully this chapter will be a lot longer. Thank you to those who've reviewed so far, and keep reviewing if you can, it means a lot.

* * *

After a while of driving, we finally pulled up to an abandoned Gas station. Oddly enough, the whole street itself was deserted.

The car ride had been a slightly awkward one to say the least. John's mom seemed to ignore me completely. Maybe she didn't notice I was there, with me being so quiet and everything. But then on some level, maybe she didn't care to know, all she was really concentrating on was keeping her son safe. Any other time I would've thought it amazing how protective she was of him. But I was a little confused as to if she was doing it because he was her son, or because he was a future leader. The woman seemed to be stuck in between.

The terminator climbed out of the car and John followed, obviously still a little peeved at his mom's actions earlier. Unfortunately, this left me in the car with her. Along with a very uncomfortable feeling. For me anyway.

The terminator yanked on the garage shutters, causing the lock to break.

"So what's your part in this?"

I jumped at the sound of her harsh voice, my eyes flickering towards the rear-view mirror. "I'm not sure."

On our way here, the Terminator had explained to her why he was here, and who sent him. Her hesitance to believe him was understandable, considering a robot that looked exactly like him was sent back in time to kill her. But while the Terminator had explained, he left out why he was sent back to protect me. And while I shouldn't have questioned someone's motives to protect me from a psycho-robot-cop, the mystery was starting to get on my nerves.

"You didn't ask it?" She asked as we slowly drove into the garage.

"I never even thought about it until we got to the Hospital." I shrugged, scratching behind Chips' ears.

"Well, when we're all fixed up, ask."

I knew from the tone of her voice that it wasn't a request, but even if she hadn't said it, the curiosity brewing would've lead to me asking...eventually.

~...~...~...~...~..~

As the Terminator pulled the needle through Sarah's skin, I bit down on my lip. It looked seriously painful, and if it was, she hid it _really _well.

"Hey, do you know what you're doing?" John asked, standing on the Terminator's right.

"I have detailed files on the human anatomy." He replied, completely focussed on the task at hand.

"I'll bet. Makes you a more _efficient _killer, right?" Sarah asked, though it was more a statement. It wasn't hard to tell how uncomfortable she was with him this close to her.

"Correct."

Once he finished stitching her up, it was time for the positions to switch. The Terminator sat down on the stool, while Sarah pulled out the bullets that had managed to hit him. As she proceeded to pull out the 10th bullet, my eyes widened in disbelief. He couldn't feel it, not one bit.

"Does it hurt when you get shot?" John asked curiously, finally done inspecting the damaged leather-jacket.

"I sense injury's. The data could be called pain."

"Man, what I wouldn't give to not be able to feel pain." I muttered, picking up one of the bullets to inspect it.

"What would you know about feeling pain." Sarah scoffed, rolling her eyes.

I chewed on my bottom lip, staring at the bullet in thought. "More than you think." I dropped the bullet back onto the tray before pulling myself up onto another stool.

"Will these heal up?" She completely ignored my reply, and on some level, I was grateful for it.

"Yes."

"Good, if you can't pass for a human you're not much good to us."

"So, how long do you live? Or last?" John questioned, arranging the light so that his mom could see better.

"120 years in my existing power-cell."

"Can you learn stuff you haven't been programed with? So you can be...you know, more human? And not such a dork all the time."

"My CPU is a Neural Net processor. A learning computer. But Skynet presets the switch to read only when we are sent out alone." The Terminator answered.

"Doesn't want you to do too much thinking, huh?" Sarah asked, pulling out another bullet.

"No."

"Can we reset the switch?" John asked.

Both adults...well, adult and robot, turned to face him, looks of thought on their faces. It was a good idea.

After gathering the necessary tools, John and Sarah crowded around the Terminator, while I stood more off to the side. The Terminator led Sarah through the operation, and as slightly disturbing as it was, I couldn't look away. The side-effects of having a late best-friend who loved horror flicks.

Sarah pulled out the CPU and walked towards another table, setting it down. John stayed where he was, waving a hand in front of the frozen-terminators face. It was completely blank. Well, blanker than usual. His eyes were open and his body remained in the position it was in, like a Barbie doll. Bad reference, but it was the only thing I could think of to compare it to.

"This is so weird." I muttered, poking the Terminators cheek with my index finger.

"I know right?" John raised the Terminators arm, tilting his head as it stayed that way.

While I continued to poke the frozen-robot, I realised it was quiet, a little too quiet.

My eyes flickered towards Sarah, who'd just clutched a hammer in her hands, raising it above the Terminators switch. "Oh shit!" I exclaimed.

John turned to face his mom and he lunged forward, covering the CPU with his hands. His mom sighed in annoyance, shaking her head as she stepped back. "Move out of the way, John."

"Don't kill him."

"It, John. _IT_." She stressed.

"Okay, _It._ But we need _It._" His hands remained over the CPU, and he didn't seem to be budging anytime soon.

"Listen, we're better off on our own."

"No. This is the only proof we have. Of the future, the war!" He exclaimed.

"Maybe," She looked back at the Terminator. "But I don't trust it."

"He's my friend alright?!"

She shook her head. "You don't know what it's like to kill one of these things. And if something goes wrong this could be our last chance. So Move!" She growled, raising the hammer once again.

"Look mom, if I'm meant to be this great Military leader maybe you should listen to _my _ideas once in a while!" She looked slightly taken aback, and I suddenly realised he'd never shouted at her before. "Because if my own mother won't listen to me, how do you expect anyone else to?" His voice calmed slightly and he took back his hands, leaving the CPU uncovered.

She stared down at the CPU and raised the hammer, slamming it down on the table. My eyes widened and I flinched at the sound, but sighed in relief once I realised she hadn't destroyed it. "Fine, play it your way." She dropped the hammer to the table and headed off towards the other end of the room, obviously frustrated.

"Was there problems?" The terminator asked after John placed the CPU back into place.

"No problems," John glanced back at his still-frustrated mom. "None whatsoever."

The Terminator nodded and began to fix himself up, sliding every metal object, and skin piece, back into place.

"So, can I ask you something?" I questioned hesitatingly, leaning against the wall next to the mirror he was staring into. "About the future?"

"Of course."

I nodded, narrowing my eyes in thought as I glanced around the room. Sarah was still pouting in the corner of the room, glancing at the Terminator every five seconds. While John sat himself down on a stool, fiddling with the non-blood-covered tools.

"What do I have to do with all this? Why me?"

The terminator hesitated for a moment, before finally answering the question plaguing my mind. "At some time during the future, John Connor makes an attempt on his own life," As soon as those words were heard, the Terminator had everyone's full interest.

"Why?" John asked, hopping down from the stool to move towards the Terminator.

"You did not programme me with that information."

I shook my head slightly, biting my lip again. "That's pretty harsh an' all, but what does it have to do with me?"

"You prevent him from continuing. If you do not live, then neither will he."

"Everyone has rough patches in their life," Sarah started, glaring slightly at the Terminator. "He might not have gone through with it. What else does she have to do with this? There must be more."

"She's right. I mean, anyone can talk someone out of killing themselves, I must've had a bigger role than that if the machines are this determined to bunk me off." I sighed, crossing my arms.

"In the original time, your parents would've survived," I winced at his words, avoiding eye contact with the other two. "Your father would've taught you how to use weapons. You become one of the most valued soldiers." He explained.

I nodded in understanding, taking a deep breath. "Is there anything else?"

He put down the tool he'd used to stitch himself back up before turning to look up at me. "Yes. For John Connor to survive, you must die."

If my mind hadn't been spinning before, it definitely was in that moment. "Oh." I whispered.

"When?" We all looked up at John. "I mean, when does she have to die?"

"I do not know."

I sighed and nodded, running a hand through my hair nervously. "I'm gonna, sleep this off." I headed towards the backseat of the car, curling up on the seats before closing my eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

"Layla. Wakey Wakey."

The persistent voice woke me from my dreamless sleep and I groaned, slowly blinking my eyes open.

Taking in my surroundings, I found myself confused and worried for a moment, until I remembered the events of the day before; Emily dying, running from home, meeting John and the Terminator, learning about the upcoming war, and learning about my grim future.

I slowly moved up to lean on my forearms and found myself face-to-face with a happy Chips. His tail wagged and he breathed heavily, his small tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Mornin' sweetie." I muttered, sleepily raising my left hand to stroke the small dog. I turned my head, realising that John was lying down in the gap between the seats. "What time is it?"

He shrugged and sat up before glancing at his watch. "10.30."

I groaned, falling back down so that I was staring up at the ceiling. "Why did you wake me up?"

"Mom and the Terminator are moving around, figured they're gonna want us to take off soon." He explained.

I nodded in understanding and sat back up, shuffling back so that I was leaning against the car door. Chips jumped down from my lap at the movement, choosing to pester John for attention. Though the teen seemed more than happy to give it.

"Did you sleep down there?" I questioned, narrowing my eyes as the sun shined into the car.

"Yeah."

"Your back must be killing you right now."

He shook his head, looking up at me and away from Chips. "Eh, I'm used to it."

"You know, for a car seat, it's pretty comfy up here." I admitted, patting the seat as I lowered my feet to the floor of the car.

"You know," He started, climbing up onto the seats and leaning against the opposite door. "I thought you'd complain more."

I shrugged and smiled slightly as Chips moved to lie down in the middle. "Don't know what to tell yah. What gave you the impression anyway?" I asked as I scratched behind Chips' ear.

"Layla, I saw your house. You're like...seriously rich! You probably have a huge room with an amazing bed, so you can see why I made the mistake." He replied, resting his right arm on the back of the seat.

I sighed in thought, running my fingers through my slightly-tangled hair. "I wasn't always rich." The tone of my voice was so quiet, I was surprised he heard it at all.

"What do you mean?"

Biting my lower lip nervously, I looked up at him. I hadn't even told Emily about it. The only person who ever knew was my foster-mom, and she hadn't brought it up since I was 10. But since at some point in my life I was going to die for this guy, I figured 'what the hell'. Why not?.

"My mom, she isn't exactly...my mom." I rested my head on the open palm of my left hand, taking in his reaction to the revelations I was about to release.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "So, your mom is actually your foster-mom?" I nodded in confirmation and he glanced away for a moment. "What happened to your real mom?"

I was about to reply when his mom approached his side of the car, leaning her head through the open window. "C'mon, we're not riding around in this thing. It'll draw too much attention."

John nodded and opened his door while I did the same, waiting for Chips to exit before picking him up and following them towards another car.

Sarah headed back into the gas-station while John and I approached the Terminator, who'd just smashed his fist through a car window, unlocking the door before climbing into the driver's seat.

He leaned over and unlocked the passenger door for John, who climbed in and unlocked the back doors. I gently placed Chips into the back seat before hopping in myself, slamming the door shut afterwards.

The terminator pulled away part of the car, successfully managing to start it up without the keys. But as he did, John pulled down one of the mirrors and the keys slid down into his open palm.

He smirked at the Terminator and shook the keys slightly, while the Terminator stared blankly. "Are we learning yet?"

I giggled as the Terminator reversed the car, causing John to cry out as he was flung forward. It wasn't fast enough to cause any damage to him, but he probably had a slight headache.

"Shut it Layla." He grumbled, rubbing his forehead as he shot me a small glare.

"I didn't say anything." I defended, raising my hands up.

"You laughed, that was enough."

Containing my giggles, I remained smirking as we pulled up next to Sarah, who'd just exited the gas-station with her jacket.

"We have to get as far away from the city as possible." The Terminator told her.

She nodded in understanding and I slid across the back seat, allowing her room to sit down. "Just drive South." She instructed, climbing into the backseat.

~...~...~...~...~...~

"Try and keep it below 65, we don't wanna get pulled over." Sarah told the Terminator.

We'd only been driving for a few minutes, but the Terminator seemed to be going a lot faster than any other car we'd passed - not that we'd passed that many anyway. And strangely enough, as we drove down the slightly-deserted Highway, I realised I'd never been more relaxed.

Considering our current situation, with the whole killer-robot and future-war thing going on, I should've been freaking out. Heck, even Emily would've been freaking out if she was in my place, and she'd _never _freaked out about anything. There was just something about being able to stare out at the desert, nothing in sight, that calmed me down for some reason. The window had been rolled all the way down and my arms were folded on the edge, my head resting on my arms so that the wind blew into my face and through my hair. My legs were pulled up on the seat and tucked underneath me, while Chips cleaned himself on the space between me and Sarah. I'd never felt more free than I did in that moment.

"Affirmative." The Terminator replied.

"No, no, no," John started, shaking his head as he turned away from his open window to face the Terminator. "You gotta listen to the way people talk. You don't say 'affirmative' or some shit like that. You say 'no problemo'. And if someone comes up to you with an attitude, you say 'eat me'. And if you wanna shine 'em on it's 'Hasta La Vista baby'."

"Hasta La Vista, baby." The Terminator repeated.

I laughed and rolled my eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Yeah! Or 'later dickwad'. And if someone gets upset you say 'chill out'. Or you could do combinations."

"Chill out, dickwad."

John nodded proudly while I hid my mouth in my arms, trying to muffle my laughter. "Yeah! See? You're getting it."

"No problemo."


	7. Chapter 7

After about an hour of driving we finally pulled up to another gas-station, to my relief. I'd been dying to pee for about half hour.

"Got any cash?" Sarah asked, turning to John.

"I got a couple hundred bucks. I'll give you half." He smirked, pulling out way more notes than a 14 year-old should.

His mom snatched the money away from him, handing him 3 notes despite his cry of protest. "Get some food." She demanded before jumping out of the car.

"What do you want Layla?" He sighed, a little peeved at his mom for the money act.

I shrugged and rushed out of the car, resisting the urge to just let it out then and there. "Surprise me. Can you watch Chips while I go to the bathroom?" I asked, a slight plead to my voice.

"Sure. I'll grab him somethin' too."

I nodded in thanks and ran towards the women's rest-room.

~...~...~...~...~...~

After relieving myself with a long sigh of content, I washed my hands and inspected my appearance in the grimy mirror. Surprisingly, I didn't look too bad considering what I'd been through. My hair was a little knotty, but I easily loosened it up by running my fingers through, gently pulling the knots apart.

I exited the rest-room and looked around, noticing that there were quite a few people there. It was a little strange to me, considering how this place was in the middle of nowhere.

"Layla!"

Looking back I noticed John in the car, feeding Chips some fries.

"You trying to make my dog fat?" I teased, climbing into the front seat next to him.

He rolled his eyes. "Just feedin' the little guy, who knows how long he was in that backpack of yours."

I shot him a small glare before opening one of the wrappers, finding a chicken-burger inside. I groaned as the sweet smell filled my nose and eagerly dug into my food.

"This is good." I mumbled through a mouthful of burger.

"You ever had one of those?"

I looked up at him, my eyes narrowed. "I was rich, John. That didn't make me isolated."

"Sorry, you just seem like the vegetarian-type." He shrugged, dropping his empty wrapper out the window.

"Yeah well, never judge a book." He scoffed in response and I narrowed my eyes...again. "What?"

"That saying, it's full of shit." He explained, shaking his head as he glanced through the front window.

I nodded slightly, scrunching up my now-empty wrapper. "I know."

His head shot back around to face me, and a look of disbelief crossed his face. "What?"

I rolled my eyes, popping a fry into my mouth before responding. "It is a load of crap, I agree. Everyone judges people at first glance, it's just that not many people admit to it. I've done it, you've done it. Heck, everyone's done it. I don't believe in the saying, but it makes sense, right? I mean, we shouldn't judge, but we just can't help it."

He paused for a moment, his jaw dropped. He obviously hadn't expected that response. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

"You know," I started, crossing my legs on the passenger seat as I rested my hands on them. "You make up your mind about someone five seconds after you meet them."

"Really?" He leaned back against the car door, one arm hanging out of the open window.

"Uh-huh."

"So, what did you think about me?"

I paused, halfway through chewing another fry. I was _not _expecting that question.

"Come again?"

He rolled his eyes. "You say people make up their minds five seconds after they meet 'em. So, what did you think of me?"

Swallowing the fry, I glanced around the car, nervously fiddling with the ends of my dress. "Can't remember." I muttered.

"Bullshit!" He exclaimed, causing me to turn back to him. "C'mon Layla, it can't be that bad."

I sighed, chewing my bottom lip. "What did you think of me? You tell first, and then I'll tell you."

He rolled his eyes again and stared through the window for a moment, pausing before turning back to me. "Honestly?"

"No, lie to me." I replied, my voice mockingly serious.

He narrowed his eyes at me and shook his head. "I honestly thought you were a brat."

I nodded in understanding, scratching Chips' ear as I leaned back against the door. "Thought so."

He cleared his throat, most likely feeling awkward about the revelation. "Your turn."

"I can't remember." I admitted, staring at the seat in thought. "Everything was so messed up, I wasn't even paying that much attention to you. The terminator was the guy who freaked me out the most. _But,_ if I had to sum you up in one word? Rebellious."

He smirked and shrugged. "You'd be right."

"How old are you?" I blurted, feeling a little weird after I'd said it.

"Why? Liking me a little too much?" The cocky tone was enough to push my buttons.

"Nope," I shrugged, popping the 'P'. "Just wanna know if your old enough for me to choke and get away with self-defence."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Turned 14 in March. How old are you?"

I shook my head, raising my hands in protest. "Girls don't tell their age, you should know better."

"Uh-uh," He sang. "It ain't that kinda game. So spill."

"I turn 15 in May." I revealed.

"Well damn, I didn't see that one coming."

"Me either, your age I mean. Here I was thinking I was the youngest one in the car. But it turns out, you're the baby." I teased, pouting slightly.

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Yeah, yeah, keep it up. I'll be your boss one day, and when it comes, I'm gonna milk bossing you around." The smirk returned to his face.

"I don't take orders from anyone, least of all _kids_." I stressed, trying to get a rise out of him; It didn't work.

"Don't gimme that," He pulled his legs up, resting his outstretched arms on his knees. "You said so yourself, the biggest thing you ever had to worry about was failing a test. You were a good-girl weren't you Layla?" He teased.

I chewed my lip and averted my eyes. "Not exactly."

"Please," He scoffed. "I'll bet you never even skipped class."

Turning my head back to him, I narrowed my eyes again. "I'm doing it now aren't I?"

He nodded, glancing at the Terminator who was in front of the car. "Guess so."

The back door to the car opened and we both looked, finding Sarah in the backseat. She stared out at the floor, slowly digesting her burger.

John glanced around awkwardly before picking up his box of fries, turning in his seat to face his mother. "Want some?"

She completely blanked him, continuing to stare at nothing.

"Layla?" He offered, sighing as he turned to face me.

"Nah," I declined before gesturing down at Chips. "But he might."

John nodded and placed the box of fries in front of the small-dog, watching as he happily dove in.

"He's gonna blow up like a balloon." He muttered before exiting the car, once again leaving me alone with his mom.

A few seconds after he'd got out though, she slowly followed. They hadn't gone far, both were right in front of the car, discussing something or other about some man. Unfortunately, it left me alone with my thoughts...again.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note:

Hi readers! Sorry I haven't been updating this story, I've been busy with my 'Boondock Saints' Fic. Anyway, here is the next chapter of 'Do or Die'. Hopefully it's long enough and I hope you enjoy it.

Review, Favourite or Follow if you can. ;)

* * *

"You know, if I tilt my head to the right, that cloud kinda looks like someone's flipping me off." I told the three, tilting my head to the side as I spoke.

I'd lost track of how long we'd been driving for. It probably hadn't been that long, but to me the ride was taking forever. Being best friends with a hyperactive - and rebellious - teen meant never having to sit in silence. But being stuck in the car with the trio was slowly starting to make me lose my mind. Robots weren't very chatty, apparently, and neither was Sarah. Chips was asleep again, curled up into a small ball in the space between me and John. Who also seemed to be awfully quiet.

At my random statement he turned to face me, his eyes narrowed slightly. "What?"

I nodded at him, gesturing to the window. "I'm serious, see for yourself if you don't believe me."

"Fine."

He leaned down slightly, squinting through the window to my right.

"You have to, like, tilt your head to the right." I instructed.

He did so, rolling his eyes after a few seconds of intense searching.

"You must be _really _bored right now."

I frantically nodded. "I am! I mean, I don't mean to sound like a whiny little bitch..."

"Too late." He sang.

"_But,_" I stressed, shooting him a small glare. "How long will it be until we get to where we're going?"

"Not long." Sarah replied in monotone, continuing to stare through the window.

I nodded and we carried on driving in silence. But despite being fourteen years old, I had the silence-tolerance of a six year old.

"I spy with my little eye..."

"You're really bored aren't you?"

I turned my head and found John staring at me, a slightly amused look on his face.

"Yes."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. "I can't believe you're older than me."

I narrowed my eyes and was about to reply when something caught my eye. Instead of only sand, cactus' and long grass being around, I could now see a small junkyard up ahead. The dust made it harder to see, but I could tell there were a few vehicles there.

"Pull in here..._slowly_." Sarah instructed, glancing at the Terminator.

"Why?" He questioned, though he followed her command anyway.

"Just do it."

As told, he slowly drove us into the junkyard. And the further in we got, the more vehicles I could see. Cars, a run-down school bus, a helicopter, a well-kept trailer, and some good looking vehicles. It seemed uninhabited, but we couldn't be too careful.

"Stay in here." She told John before hopping out of the car, pulling out her gun as she exited.

"Should we be worried?" I asked him. But he remained silent, instead choosing to watch his mom scope out the junkyard.

"Enrique?!"

"Who's she calling?"

"Shush," He whispered, shaking his head slightly as he stared through the window. "Just wait."

Being the good little girl that I was, I listened to him, joining both him and the Terminator in watching through the windows. Though my worry increased as a man suddenly appeared, aiming his gun in Sarah's direction.

The Terminator immediately shot out of the car, aiming his gun towards the unknown man that attempted to hide behind the helicopter.

"Where the heck are you going?!" I silently exclaimed, my eyes widening as John got out of the car too.

He merely waved a hand dismissively and my nerves calmed as Sarah hugged the mystery-guy. Although it was pretty strange seeing her hug this guy, when she wouldn't even hug her own sun a few hours before hand.

A few calls from the man and people came out from the run-down school bus. Sarah and John obviously knew these people - my guess being from the cheerful reunion - but I still remained in the car. I didn't know these people and I didn't need to either. And while it sounded pretty selfish, it was understandable. If the Terminator was right, and the Countries were going to be nuked in the following years, then it would be best if I didn't meet more people. The less people to care about, the easier it would be to deal with the up-coming war. And having lost people before, I was sadly becoming used to the occurrences.

"Chips!" I hissed, noticing that my dog was curious about the people outside. "Chips don't you dare."

But as usual, he ignored my warning, choosing to jump out of the car and run towards the group instead. And that left me alone in the car, looking like a hermit.

"Stupid little dog." I muttered, letting my head fall back against the seat.

"Well, that's no way to speak to your dog."

I rolled my eyes, lowering my head to glare at John. "He's my dog, I'll speak to him how I want."

He smirked in amusement and rested his arm against the car door. "So, whatcha doin' in here?"

"Who are they?" I gestured to the Spanish-Speaking group, noticing that the younger kids were playing with Chips.

"Friends of my mom, helped us a few years back. C'mon." He stepped back from the car and I shook my head. "Why?"

I shrugged. "Not in the mood to talk to people I guess."

"Bullshit." He scoffed, sitting on the edge of the seat with his feet outside. "You were the one whinin' about bein' bored in the car, now we've stopped and you're not in the mood to talk?"

I nodded in confirmation. "Pretty much. So, what are we doing here?"

"Mom and I hid out here for a while, collected weapons and stuff like that."

"So we're here to grab guns?"

"Pretty much, and I'm on weapons detail with T. So you're gonna help us." He climbed out of the car and waited patiently for me, holding the door open as he did.

"What?"

He shrugged. "You need to learn about this stuff Layla. Whether you like it or not, you're part of this war too now. It's time you started facing it."

"Jackass." I muttered, reluctantly exiting my comfort-zone, following him towards the middle of the junk-yard.

"Just being truthful." He shrugged.

I rolled my eyes at him but stepped back as the Terminator gripped a few chains, pulling them as he moved back to reveal some kind of trap-door. Though if I was being completely honest - it was pretty cool.

"Ladies first."

I narrowed my eyes at John. "Jackass."

He merely shrugged in response and I climbed down the ladder, joining the Terminator in the tiny space. But while it was tiny, it seemed to be the perfect location to keep a shit-load of guns, both big and small.

"One thing about my mom, she always plans ahead."

"No shit." I muttered, my eyes wide.

"Better get used to it princess."

I turned to him, my eyes narrowed once again. "Princess? Really?"

He shrugged. "Best nickname I could come up with. Unless rich-girl is better for yah?"

"No, princess is good." I rushed, shaking my head.

He chuckled and squeezed passed me, moving towards the back of the room to take down the guns.

"So, what exactly are we doing down here?" I questioned.

"Simple. We give you guns, you put them up there by the door." He explained, handing me a particularly large gun. I looked down at the weapon, faintly hearing the sound of gun-shots in my ears.

_'Layla!'_

I clenched my eyes shut as the scream echoed, my grip loosening on the gun.

"Hey, hey Layla." My eyes snapped open at the voice and I found both John and the Terminator watching me.

"Hmm?"

"You okay?" John asked, tilting his head slightly.

I looked down at the gun in my hands and shook my head. "No, not really."

His eyes narrowed in confusion as I handed him back the gun, wiping my palms against the skirt of my dress.

"What's wrong? You just freaked out."

I shook my head again. "I just need some air, it's pretty stuffy down here. I'll be back in a bit." I told the two before climbing the ladder and rushing back towards the car.


	9. Chapter 9

As soon as I rushed out of the small room, I sat down at a nearby wooden bench, resting my head in my hands.

It had been years since those noises and screams had been echoing through my mind - so long I'd almost forgotten how much they scared me. But as soon as that gun was put into my hands, it was like everything came rushing back. My fathers voice, my mothers screams, the loud gunshots; Everything. All the nightmares I'd had when I was a little girl, they all came back. And all I wanted was for them to be gone again.

"Hey,"

I looked up to see Sarah staring down at me, her face blank - like usual.

"Hi." I muttered, moving my arms to rest on the table.

She sat down on the seat opposite me, crossing her arms on the table as she looked at me. It was a little awkward, being stuck alone with her, but I wasn't going to say anything about it. The woman was pretty scary.

"So, what was with the freak-out?" She asked, gesturing to the gun-room a few feet away.

"It was nothing." I reassured, shaking my head.

"Look, I get that you're freaked out about being around guns and everything, but you have to get a grip and get used to it. This is your world now, so calm it down and get back down there." She said, some annoyance in her tone.

I narrowed my eyes, feeling a little pissed at her. "Tell me something, how did you react when you found out about this war? Huh?"

She averted her eyes, instead staring down at the table between us. "It was a long time ago."

"So what? You probably freaked out just as much as anyone else would, so don't tell me to get a grip." I snapped.

I'd never been angry at anyone before. Well - I'd been angry before. But I'd never said anything about it, I always kept it in. But Emily's death, finding out about the war, and finding out that I was going to die for a stranger was obviously getting to me. And I wasn't sure if it was for the best or worst.

"Why did you freak out about the guns?" She asked, finally looking back at me.

"It's _nothing._"

"Look, it's obviously _something_. And if talking about it will make you let it go and get a fucking grip, then I'll listen. Anything to make you face the facts that this war is going to happen."

I nodded, knowing that on some level she was right. Obviously she wasn't the first person that I would've chosen to hear me out on my fucked-up back-story, but she was here now, and that was the best I was going to get.

"I was only a few weeks old, it's weird how I could remember the sounds but I did. My dad was working - apparently. He was a cop and that year things got pretty heated. My mom was taking care of me, they told me she didn't work so I guess she was a housewife or something..."

"What does this have to do with the guns?" She cut me off, sounding bored.

"Just listen." I begged. She nodded and made a 'go-on' motion with her hand. "Anyway, I must've been awake to remember the sounds. But they told me that someone broke the door down, and shot my mom. She screamed my name, probably her mother-instincts kicking in or something. It was about two days before anyone found me, and soon after that my dad was killed too, shot down at the police-station by some huge guy. I was put into the foster-system and someone adopted me a few weeks after it all. My foster-mom told me about it when I turned thirteen, we looked nothing-alike and she couldn't have kids - something I overheard from gossiping neighbours."

I looked up from the table and found her toying with a knife, seeming to be in thought.

"Look, I didn't mean to freak out down there. But when John gave me that gun, my mom's scream just came back. It's amazing what some people remember." I sighed.

"What year did you say your parents were killed?" She asked, eyes still locked onto the knife.

"1980, May. Why?"

"Was your mom's name Sarah Connor by any chance?" She asked, looking very tense as she waited for the answer.

"Yeah, actually it was. A lot of Sarah Connor's were getting killed by some psycho, at least that's what I found out from my foster-mom. My dad's name was Craig Williams, parents weren't married obviously. Why?" I asked.

You can imagine how surprised I was when a certain emotion crossed her face, one I never thought she would get; Sympathy.

"Did John tell you that a Terminator was sent back in time to kill me? Before he was born?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Told me you were saved by his dad."

"You don't know our last name do you?" She randomly asked, though it didn't seem so random to her.

"Not really..."

"Well it's Connor. My name's Sarah Connor."

My eyes narrowed in both confusion and curiosity. "Wait...what?"

She sighed, whether it was out of frustration or irritation I didn't know. "Listen close and listen carefully, okay?" I nodded in response and remained quiet. "I remember that year like it was yesterday. I was working in a diner, living with my best-friend. Some psycho was walking around gunning down Sarah Connor's in the city. Everyone I knew told me to be careful, that it could be me. But I didn't listen, couldn't believe it. And I didn't until it came for me. Fuck I didn't even believe it when Kyle explained it all to me."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"I'm telling you that your parents were killed because of me - John to be more specific. The terminator back then didn't know what I looked like, so it went around taking out every Sarah Connor it could, hoping it would catch the right one. Prevent John from being born." She explained.

"So you're telling me that I was left parentless because John leads some stupid fucking war in the future? That my childhood was filled with nightmares of screams and gunshots because some idiot machine couldn't get it right?" I asked, anger clear in my tone.

"Yes."

I shook my head and got to my feet, pacing as I latched my hands into my hair.

"That won't help."

"Fuck you!" I snapped.

"That won't help either."

"So, my mom was killed because of this war? What about my dad?" I asked, pausing to turn to her.

She sighed and flipped the knife around in her hand. "You say he was a cop?"

"Yeah."

"Then he was probably working that night, down at the station. It must've been the same night Kyle and I were taken in. The terminator came for us, gunned down everyone in that building." She said, her voice one again emotionless.

"My parents dying, that was all linked to you and John somehow. This is just too fucking weird!" I exclaimed, shaking my head as I began pacing - again.

"Look, I'm sorry your parents died because of us, I am. But you _have _to get over it, if you're pissed, then use it. Just get your act together and learn to live with this stuff. It's hard, but in a few years it'll all be worth it." She said, heading over to the gun-pile to pick up a particularly large one.

My eyes widened as I headed over to the old car, pulling myself up to sit on the hood.

It was all a little too much to deal with, and I was pretty sure any other person would've passed the fuck out. There was a long list of reasons for me to give up, take the easy route as it were. But I was too much of a chicken to do that kind of thing, and I had no idea how to use a gun. Besides, I didn't want Emily to have died for nothing.

"Shit." I muttered, reclining until I was staring up at the clear blue sky.

"What did she say this time?"

I moved up to lean on my forearms and found John stood in front of the truck.

"Huh?"

"My mom, what did she say to you?" He clarified.

I shrugged, moving onto my back again. "Not much, this and that."

A light thudding sound reached my ears and the truck moved slightly, a clear sign that he'd jumped up onto the hood as well.

"Look, yah just gotta ignore her."

"Kind of hard to ignore what she said." I shrugged, resting my hands on my stomach.

He leaned back on his forearms, looking down at me. "What did she say?"

"It's nothing." I reassured.

"If it's nothing then you can tell me." He scoffed.

I rolled my eyes but nodded. "Fine. Do you want it in a nutshell or the long-boring version?"

"Nutshell." Was his immediate reply.

"Thought you'd say that." I muttered, smiling slightly in amusement. "So it turns out my parents were killed because of you."

"Uh...you wanna run that by me again?"

"My parents were killed because of you, in some way. I mean, it wasn't your fault, you weren't even born yet. But it did have _everything _to do with this stupid fucking war." I sighed, shaking my head.

"How did...I mean...how?" He asked, shaking his head with his eyes narrowed in confusion.

I shrugged. "Your mom told me about it. My little freak-out in the basement was because of the guns. When I was a little girl I used to have nightmares about gunshots and screams, everything was black and that was all I could hear. They stopped when I turned ten. Turned out it wasn't nightmares - they were memories. My mom was gunned down at home when I was a few weeks old, and then my dad was killed in a police-station. It was the exact same year a terminator was sent back for your mom."

He groaned quietly. "Your mom's name was Sarah Connor?"

"Yup." I nodded. "She was shot because a dumb-ass machine was after _your _mom. Then my dad was killed because your mom and dad were taken into the station. So now you know what happened to my parents."

"I wanna say 'I'm sorry' but I have a feelin' it's not the best answer." He said.

"Don't be, it wasn't your fault. It just hit me pretty hard yah know? When your mom told me that."

"I'll bet."

I nodded and also leaned up onto my forearms, spotting his mom napping on the bench. Meanwhile the terminator seemed pretty occupied with fixing one of the trucks.

"Is there a reason you're not freaking out right now?" He suddenly asked.

I turned my head to face him, shrugging my shoulders as I did. "God-knows. But these passed few days have been anything but normal. I guess I'm just running out of things to freak out about."

He nodded and reclined onto his back, covering his eyes with one arm to block out the sun.

"So, I spy with my little eye..." I paused through my sentence as he laughed, shaking his head. "What?"

"Nothin'. Just still can't believe you're older than me." Was his response.

I rolled my eyes. "Fuck you Connor."

He moved his arm away and looked up at me, a small smirk on his face.

"What?" I demanded, slightly self-conscious.

"Nothing. I just kind'a like it when good-girls talk bad."

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief and chuckled, falling onto my back again.


End file.
